


Good Like Sunkist

by MercurySkies



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Insecurity, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Sex Toys, Smut, Tumblr: Buzzfeed Creations Challenge, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurySkies/pseuds/MercurySkies
Summary: 'He’s being cock blocked by Marky Mark.'This is Buzzfeed, there’s hardly a niche, trend or ‘relatable’ topic some frazzled video producer hasn’t jammed their shaking and sweaty hands into. An innocuous video turned practical joke bruises Shane's ego, but he gets a little more than he bargained for when he finally takes Ryan's word for it that 90's Mark Wahlberg really isn't his type.Written for the round 3 ofThe Buzzfeed Creations Challenge, the 90's!





	1. Good Vibration

**Author's Note:**

> Another one! This was quite the prompt to wrestle with and of course I had to make it a lot more difficult for myself than it needed to be and add in a highly specific set up.  
> My prompt for this round was the song [Good Vibrations](https://www.youtube.com/embed/AO9909uexu8) by Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch, an absolute banger I'm sure you'll agree.

Shane can’t decide if he’s a genius or a masochist or some doomed combination of the two. He’s decided it’ll be a wonderful idea to sit in on the filming of Ryan’s segment for a video about gym confessions. The format goes that they demonstrate their usual work out routine or a routine they’ve tried and enjoyed and then spill their sordid exercise related secrets. It’s an oddly specific concept, but this is Buzzfeed, there’s hardly a niche, trend or ‘relatable’ topic some frazzled video producer hasn’t jammed their shaking and sweaty hands into. Shane suspects he’s only been roped into it because Ryan had already enthusiastically agreed to take part and Shane had simply been asked to complete the dynamic duo.

He is both blessing and cursing himself for accepting the invite to sit in on Ryan’s gym session. He should have refused, just told Ryan he’d meet him for lunch after the shoot but _no_ , he just _had_ to catch a glimpse didn’t he and lust over his best friend in miserable silence. At least he elected to only ‘swing by’, arriving just 15 minutes before they call it a day.

By _God_ does he have it bad for Ryan. His dumpster fire of bisexual chaos he calls a heart has betrayed him. It’s like he tripped one day and when he found his way upright and steady again, it was with skinned knees and grazed palms. Ryan clings to his skin like grit, scraping away his veneer, exposing his rough edges and leaving him raw. Sometimes just looking at him hurts, like his heart is being dragged across asphalt, a rasping ache.

As Shane makes his way through the gym toward the area they’re filming in he finally takes a breath and feels regret sweep through him so suddenly he almost turns on his heel and just leaves. Shane is a relatively confident guy, secure in himself, secure in his body, but damn if this gym isn’t full to the brim with pretty people. This isn’t just a gym, this is a _pretty people gym_ where they all eat muesli for breakfast and post it on Instagram and look like their bodies were crafted by godly artisans.

After already being privy to the conversation portion of Ryan’s confession segment, being surrounded by well maintained, muscular individuals reminds him bitterly that he’s no 90’s Mark Wahlberg. Of all the things to have inspired a teen aged Ryan to start working out Shane wouldn’t have pegged it to be an old MTV rerun of the video for the hip-hop sensation, _Good Vibrations_. Admittedly a classic but _still_. Shane can understand having weird motivations for doing things; spite, because it’s funny and because someone explicitly told him not to are but a few of his own. The lead single of Marky Mark’s Music for the People? Not so much. By the time Ryan had discovered it in the 2000’s, the 90’s hip-hop vibe was less cool but muscles never go out of style. Muscles, making out with ladies and a saucy hip-hop ditty was apparently all teen Ryan Bergara needed.

‘Bergara’s always had good taste’ he’d said with a wink at the end of his interview, and it should’ve looked ridiculous but just the thought of Ryan’s smug grin has Shane’s heart beating twice as fast as he pushes open the studio door. The sight that greets him has his heart racing toward a heart attack. Shane has seen Ryan sweaty and breathless before but it never fails to short circuit something in his brain that’s probably the part that reminds him to just fucking chill. He stares from the entryway, eyes trailing across a broad back, biceps he wants to sink his teeth into and he has to physically shake himself in order to look away. He isn’t playing this game, this pathetic pining for a colleague shtick. He’s thirty and not the ‘flirty’ kind. He’s thirty and the ‘trying to have a good time despite being cripplingly aware of his own mortality’ kind.

Shane lets the door close noisily behind him drawing the attention of the room. Ryan visibly startles where he stands talking to one of the crew. “Well I’m feeling some _good vibrations_ in here.” He says slyly with a low whistle, a heavy bassline pumps through the speakers and he has to raise his voice a little to be heard above it as he weaves his way around a couple of treadmills. “You son of a bitch, you’ve watched it!” Ryan calls, affronted but still with a blinding smile on his face. “Of course I watched it who do you take me for?” Shane laughs, trying not to let his gaze wander as Ryan nears him. He breathes deeply, like he’s only just stopped running and Shane struggles not to let his eyes linger too long on the sight of his chest, collar bones exposed by his loose muscle shirt. He blinks as the sudden urge to lick the sweat from the divots between them courses through him unbidden, unexpected heat slinking down his spine and coiling in his gut. A little inappropriate for what is technically the workplace.

Ryan rolls his eyes, a fond smile lighting up his face as he takes a swig from his water bottle and Shane struggles to look like he isn’t in fact having some kind of coronary. The movement of Ryan’s throat is mesmerising. He thinks about sucking a bruise into the skin there, tasting the sweat damp skin on his tongue as Ryan’s throat rumbles with a moan. “So uh, you done here?” Shane asks, gazing around the room nervously, the pervasive beat of the music, obviously meant to motivate, is rapidly approaching giving him a headache. He leans nonchalantly against a treadmill, crossing his legs at the ankles and assures himself that what he thinks is Ryan giving him the once over is just a figment of his hopeful imagination. Shane raises an eyebrow, the flush on Ryan’s cheeks endearing but understandable considering he’s just spent the morning working out. “Yeah uh just give me a minute to shower real quick,” he says reaching up to run a hand through sweat damp hair and Shane grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches with it. The muscles of Ryan’s arm bunch and flex, well defined and fucking glistening and Shane’s concerned he’s somehow found himself in his 16 year old self’s wet dream. He clears his throat and tries not to cringe as he speaks, his voice sounding strange and strained. “Cool, I’ll meet you outside.” He tries to smile but it feels more like a grimace and Ryan just looks at him confused, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he moves past him and heads for the showers.

He’s being weird. He can feel it. He glances at his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror and winces, cheeks flushed and eyes looking dazed and glassy. He couldn’t play it cool if he tried. A heavy hand lands on his shoulder causing him to jump so badly he almost trips over a treadmill. “Steady there big guy.” TJ laughs, eyes knowing.

“What are you doing here?” Shane scowls. He does not like the look in Teej’s eyes, he knows too much. He has been semi-sober confidant to drunk Shane too many times for him to not know almost everything. “Oh you know,” he says with an air of nonchalance, resting an arm on the nearest treadmill, “just helpin’ out. What are _you_ doing here?” TJ’s smile is nothing short of shit-eating and Shane, if he didn’t love the guy, would’ve killed him for it by now. He shrugs. “Just waiting to get lunch with Ry.”

“Mhmm and catching a glimpse of him in action while you’re at it?” Shane opens his mouth as if to protest but TJ cuts him off before he can even begin espousing denial. “In case you hadn’t noticed buddy there were twice the amount of people working this shoot than there really needed to be and no prizes for guessing what, or should I say _who_ , they were really here for.” He says, calling Shane out in the process

Something flares hot and seething within him at the thought of Ryan’s little audience, something he’s forced to acknowledge as bitter jealousy. He chews on his lip, folding his arms across his chest as Teej’s expression shifts effortlessly from teasing to pitying. He hates that look too. “Just ask him out Shane.” He says bluntly. Shane responds by scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” he says and starts striding toward the door, feeling bitterly satisfied when TJ has to jog a little to keep up, “it’s not happening.” Teej follows him all the way through reception and out onto the sunny streets of L.A.

“Why?” He asks simply, more curious than anything else but they’ve had this conversation dozens of times by now and his answer is the same every time. Shane leans back against the building’s facade with a sigh. “I dunno man, it’s just- complicated. He’s _Ryan_ , ya know?” TJ nods like he does indeed know, but Shane doubts he really understands what he’s trying to get at. Ryan is _Ryan_. Smart, funny, passionate, kind, _buff_. Shane is... Well he’s some of that for sure but Ryan is all of it and more.

It’d taken Shane a while to come to terms with his personal kind of charm. A mode of existence pretty common in the midwest but for some reason pretty much an oddity when he hightailed it to the west coast. Shane knows he’s smart, capable, funny even. He may not be making People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive list but he’s relatively easy on the eyes. Sure he can be a little shy and a little awkward, his own niche brand of humour sometimes a little obscure but it works, it’s him and anything less or even more just wouldn’t feel right.

Shane is comfortable with himself, self-assured and _happy_ , but that doesn’t change the fact that when he looks at Ryan he wishes that he was maybe a little more... Well, everything. A little more muscular. A little funnier. A little more charming or suave or witty. A little more deserving of his time, his friendship. The real kicker is that it wouldn’t matter even if he was, he thinks idly as the front door of the gym slides effortlessly open to reveal a shower damp Ryan, a beaming smile that lights up Shane’s veins with molten gold, gilded from the inside by that grin alone. TJ says his goodbyes and Shane barely registers that he’s left and that they’re making their way toward the cafe the next street over. It wouldn’t matter. Shane’s no Marky Mark after all.

 

* * *

 

Ryan really can’t begrudge Shane for having snuck a peek at his section of the video because Ryan is absolutely about to do the same. Of course he’ll never tell him because that would mean admitting he’s curious enough to want to see the uncut footage, to get a glimpse of Shane, hot and sweaty, not to mention what it’d do to the guy’s ego. The editor hooks him up at work early on Monday morning, he’s been thinking about it all weekend, refuses to call it fantasising but in essence that’s what it is. When he finally sits down to take a look at what they shot boy does he get more than just a glimpse. There is barely any actual footage of him working out, there doesn’t need to be considering he isn’t really a gym guy and it can just be cut with old footage from when they tried out Cardio Barre but what there _is_ has Ryan needing a long lie down in a dark room and several stiff drinks.

Bundled up in his signature layers Ryan had forgotten how _broad_ Shane is, lean and strong. Ryan has never seen Shane in a muscle shirt before but by God he’s certainly not gonna forget the image any time soon. It’s a good look on him even though he has a sneaking suspicion that he was handed it by the producer. It’s incredibly reminiscent of the cheerleading outfit they forced him into as punishment for ditching out on P90X, but looser, allowing him glimpses of taut pale skin beneath the dark grey fabric, darker at the collar and between his shoulder blades with sweat. There’s nothing particularly sexy about running on a treadmill but they apparently had a very attentive camera operator on this shoot as he’s treated to a panning close up of Shane’s long legs, the muscles in his thighs flexing as he runs. His chest rises and falls with the effort but it’s measured, and Ryan is unsurprised that Shane can keep good pace. He swallows thickly as the camera pans up his neck, over the slope of his shoulders, sweat curling the hair at his nape sweetly.

Ryan’s face is so close to the monitor at this point that when he blinks he’s suddenly catapulted into the present, acutely aware of the hustle and bustle of the office around him. He glances around wildly, heart racing, worried that someone has been watching him stare intently at footage of his friend and colleague running on a treadmill for no apparent reason. No one is paying him the slightest bit of attention though and he takes a deep breath, steeling himself as he presses play.

He instantly regrets it. The very attentive camera operator, whom he now simultaneously loves and loathes, has finally made it to Shane’s dumb face. He’s flushed, pink blush blooming high on his cheeks and spreading across his nose. He’s smiling, a tired and bashful little quirk of lips that has Ryan feeling warm all over. He pushes sweat damp hair from his forehead, running his fingers through it as he shakes his head, laughing quietly. He fiddles with the controls and the treadmill slows, a disembodied arm hands Shane a water bottle and the screen goes dark signalling the end of the clip. Hands shaking Ryan pauses the video before it moves to the next segment.

This was a bad idea, a really really bad idea. He’d told himself he was only watching it to get some dirt on Shane, lord knows he’s never going to hear the end of the Good Vibrations jokes, he needed ammunition. What he got was the opposite, he simply fed into his flights of fancy, fanned the flames of whatever it is he feels for Shane. Attraction? A crush? Frankly he’s been trying not to think about it, but ever since that shoot he’s felt the urge to confess a little more than whether or not he sings in the shower post workout.

He slams his laptop shut in frustration and violently tries to shove the thought of the stupid video and Shane from his mind. He’s so caught up trying not to think about him that he barely notices when Shane eventually takes his seat next to him at their desks, nudging a cup of coffee kindly in his direction. “Um hello? Good morning? Earth to Ry?” He calls and Ryan flinches as the warm cup makes contact with the back of his hand. He looks up to see Shane smiling at him bemusedly, the slightest hint of concern in warm brown eyes and fuck he’s _cute_ and Ryan hates himself a little for thinking it no matter how undeniably true it is. “Good morning.” Ryan mumbles, picking up his coffee and taking a sip, adding an equally muffled ‘thank you’.

“You doing okay buddy?” Shane asks, tilting his head and adjusting his glasses. He still looks sleep bleary, head a damp mess of hair from a hasty shower. It’s a warm day so he simply sports a black and white baseball tee, it fits him well, showing off the curve of his biceps and when Ryan finally finds his voice it’s a little hoarse. “Yeah man, I’m good.” He replies with a small smile. Shane seems satisfied, he grins and quickly gets to work, thankfully blissfully unaware of the jackhammer trapped inside Ryan’s ribcage.

 

* * *

 

Shane really hadn’t anticipated that a simple video could make him the laughing stock of the office but what did he expect, it’s Buzzfeed. Something like this happens at least once every two weeks but strangely, Shane has never been on the receiving end of it, not until the stupid gym confessions video came out earlier that week. It’s not exactly fun to have your colleagues greet you by laughing at you early on a Friday morning but after seeing what’s got them so tickled he can’t really blame them. It’s all in jest anyway so he won’t be running to HR any time soon. TJ has really outdone himself. He saw an opportunity and he took it and Shane admires the effort and dedication he must’ve put in to produce a super cut of his exercise related videos all superbly edited to the hip-hop stylings of none other than Marky Mark.

He’s not easily embarrassed, an advantage considering some of the more bizarre videos he’s featured in. So he’s a little annoyed that a simple video about going to the gym has been the ultimate cause of the small, wriggling sense of humiliation squirming nauseatingly in his belly. He laughs along, thankfully still cognizant enough to engage with their banter but the comments are never ending. By lunchtime he’s sequestered himself to a deserted corner of the office for some peace and quiet. He flops down onto one of the couches, head resting against one of the armrests as his feet dangle off the other. Sighing deeply he presses his palms to his cheeks, blessedly cool against his flushed skin, a bashful blush that’s been burning there since the morning. He prays to God that Ryan hasn’t seen the video yet.

That’s the stickler, he thinks, leaning his head back further with a groan. Teej’s video is just a bit of fun, childish, something he can easily shrug off. To be embarrassed by the video itself would mean he’d actually have to care about what people think of him, and for the most part he doesn’t. For the most part. He cares about what Ryan thinks of him. He’s already so far removed from Ryan’s ideal that the video almost feels like it’s mocking him for it, ridiculing his inadequacies. It’s a big ‘dream on’ delivered to the last vestiges of hope he’d been clinging to, hope that burgeoned from heated glances and soft smiles, the intimacy born from sharing motel bathrooms and beds. Yet, it’s been years and if he wasn’t disillusioned this morning, he certainly is now. He grimaces, closes his eyes against the harsh white lights hanging above him. The video plays again behind his closed eyelids and he cringes, whole body curling in on itself, the contrast between it, and the original utterly laughable. He guesses that was kind of the point. It’s not anyone’s fault that this little practical joke has hit a little too close to home. He’s just a fool, the punchline to a joke that no one else is in on.

He flips onto his side, curling his legs up as much as he can as he gazes unseeingly at the vast and empty communal area. It’ll soon fade. The video will be forgotten in a week or two and Ryan will give him hell for a while but then what else is new? It’ll hurt, not a lot, but it’ll hurt to have his insecurities skewered by Ryan’s playful barbs. He’ll endure it. The only alternative points to confessing and that idea is now dead and buried.

“Hey big guy!” Ryan calls from the other side of the room and Shane startles, shooting upright so fast he gets dizzy with the sudden motion. “Woah steady man, it’s only me.” He says grinning, with a small huff of breath as he falls back into the couch cushions next to him. _Only you_ , Shane thinks wryly as he shifts to accommodate him on the couch. He reaches toward a small coffee table for the mug of tea he’d left there earlier, it must be tepid by now but the weight of the somewhat warm ceramic in his hands is a small comfort. Ryan is practically vibrating with energy, his grin broad and he _knows_ , he knows without a doubt, with one glance alone, that Ryan’s seen the video. He sighs, steels himself and leans back, stomach churning as Ryan seems to emanate pure, unadulterated glee. “Alright then c’mon, lay it on me.” He says.

“What are you-?”

“Don’t play coy Ryan, I know you’ve seen the video.” Shane interrupts, rolling his eyes as he watches Ryan’s smile slowly grow.

“Yeah I have,” Ryan teases, smiling like he’s just been gifted the sun itself. He shifts a little closer, leaning in and Shane bites his lip resisting the urge to let his gaze fall to watch his mouth, “what about it?” Shane groans dramatically, sliding down on the couch until he head barely rests on the back of it, long legs stretched out in front of him. “I gotta say,” Ryan slides to the floor, bobbing his head like a chicken in order to get Shane to look at him. Shane cracks a small smile, and Ryan seems to light up, “you’re really not partying on the positive side right now.” He quips and Shane can’t decide if he wants to kick him or kiss him. “You really know every word of that song huh?” He says, dragging a hand down his face. “You not have internet or at least magazines as a kid? You really had to hold out for a saucy MTV rerun?” Ryan flushes red spluttering as he smacks Shane’s arm.

“I did- What?”

“Bergara’s always had good taste” Shane parrots Ryan’s comment, winking exaggeratedly. Ryan’s answering laugh is loud and boisterous.

“Teen Bergera did indeed,” he says slyly, something indiscernible in his eyes and Shane swallows roughly, captivated, “but I think my tastes now are much better.” There is a pang in Shane’s chest, a jarring flutter against his rib cage, but he crushes the feeling immediately, desperately trying to think of something to say.

Ryan saves him, seemingly unconcerned with the mental breakdown occurring in front of him and bounces up to his feet. Shane squints up at him from his spot deep in the recesses of the couch. “You up for drinks tonight?” Ryan asks. He fidgets, shifting his weight from foot to foot and before Shane can really register what he’s been asked he’s nodding and Ryan is grinning and tugging him up from the couch by the wrist like an excited child. “Great! You’ll be feelin’ the vibration in no time.” He says wiggling his eyebrows and Shane lets him lead him back into the fray of Buzzfeed’s main office space, his head spinning.

 

* * *

 

One of the first things Shane ever discovered he and Ryan had in common was that they’re both big fans of the tiki bar. They both manage to cajole their colleagues into heading to one first on their Friday night outing. Admittedly, it doesn’t take much, the majority of them don’t really care where they go as long as the music is good and the drinks aren’t too pricey. Within moments of walking in the door, Ryan has a flower behind his ear, the low lights make him look ethereal and Shane struggles to take his eyes off him and focus on weaving his way toward the bar. Drinks acquired they head toward a booth their friends have set up in, sliding across the leather until they’re huddled together in the corner. They’re pressed against each other, hip to thigh and Shane sucks down almost half his drink in one go. He’s not drunk enough to be this close, so close he can smell Ryan’s cologne and see the stubble gracing his jaw. “Woah okay, someone’s eager.” Ryan laughs next to him.

“You have no idea.” he says breathlessly, leg bouncing beneath the table as he slurps up the rest of the fruity cocktail in a matter of minutes, feeling the heat of the alcohol warm his throat and chest as he gulps it down through a brightly coloured straw.

He chokes on the last vestiges of his cherry and vodka concoction as Ryan plucks the little umbrella from the glass, deft fingertips brushing his hair back as he pokes the little umbrella behind his ear. “There.” He says, quietly, for Shane and Shane alone to hear and he can’t discern the beat of his heart from the pound of the bass. “How’s it look?” Shane says, striking a pose and Ryan wheezes out a laugh.

“Cute.” He says, and there’s that look in his eyes again, something sweet and searching. He adjusts the umbrella, making sure his hair is tucked away and Shane shivers as gentle fingers brush the shell of his ear. “You look cute.” He says, so quietly he barely hears it, and he almost convinces himself he doesn’t. Eventually Ryan looks away, drawn into conversation with Zack. Shane just watches, breathing uneven as Ryan shifts away from him, immediately lured into some debate, lighting up with passion. Something Zack says has him throwing his head back with laughter and that familiar sense of shame and jealousy squirms uncomfortably in his gut. His saving grace appears in the form of TJ, a phrase he didn’t think he’d ever use considering the morning’s events. TJ hands him a shot and nudges a beer in his direction. “Looks like you could use something stronger buddy.” He nods and Shane slams back the shot with closed eyes, savouring the burn and heat that floods his body. He chases it with a gulp of his beer as Teej watches him with equal parts amusement and concern. “Jesus man are you okay?” TJ asks and Shane simply shrugs, leaning back against the leather of the booth. TJ’s question has caught Ryan’s attention and he shifts back toward him. It’s been minutes but Shane had missed Ryan’s warmth pressed up against him. “Yeah, I’m good.” He grins as he takes another sip.

“Like Sunkist?” Ryan pipes up and the whole table laughs, even Shane. How could he not when Ryan looks at him with a smile so smug and fond it feels as though his blood has been replaced with champagne, bubbly and sweet.

It gets easier to breathe with every drink that gets bought. Soon enough he finds himself in a completely different establishment, lights flashing in a way that make his friends’ faces appear in snapshots, bathed in flashes of neon. He’s tipsy, his head spinning, but he’s thrumming with energy, pushed and pulled by the crowd and the music. There are hands on his hips and when he looks down he sees the owner of said hands is Ryan, laughing and tugging him further into the fray.

It starts off innocently. Shane isn’t the greatest dancer so he plays up to it, flailing wildly, so much so that he clears a space for them, the other patrons giving him a wide berth as they bump and grind. Ryan’s laughter is so loud he can almost hear it above the pound of the music as he alternates between doubling over and enthusiastically busting out his own awful moves. Shane stops eventually, feeling dizzy and breathless and the music switches abruptly to something slower, heavy and salacious. The crowd presses in again, their own bubble of space nowhere to be found as Shane finds himself pressed chest to chest with Ryan. He has no idea what to do and he just stands there looking ridiculous, mentally floundering. For the second time that night Ryan makes his decision for him, rolling his eyes as he pulls Shane impossibly close. He drags his hands down Shane’s chest, resting one on his waist as the other winds its way back up and into Shane’s hair, pulling him down. Shane for once in his life stops thinking, he follows Ryan’s lead, grinding against him. His hands grip tight to Ryan’s hips and Shane feels his chest rumble with a groan against his own as he squeezes, his fingers dipping just below his waist band. They find a rhythm and it’s so hot he can barely breathe. It feels so easy, the way they fit together. Shane will never get enough of the feeling of Ryan’s hot skin beneath his fingers, or the shiver it sends down his spine when Ryan tugs on his hair.

Ryan pushes and pulls, tugs Shane’s neck to the side so he can lean up and bury his face in it. Shane would be inclined not to let him manhandle him so if where Ryan wants him didn’t happen to be where Shane longs to be. He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, moving sinuously against each other. Shane is half hard in his pants but maintains the smallest modicum of decorum, trying not to rut against Ryan like a horny teenager.

All good things must come to an end and in Shane’s case not the happy kind he was really hoping for. He dazedly registers that the music has changed, trying to focus enough to determine why the song sounds so familiar until he deciphers the lyrics.

 

_Come on, come on._

 

Ryan doesn’t seem to notice the song has changed but Shane feels the world around him start to slow, dread seeping into his chest.

 

_Feel it, feel it._

 

He’s being cock blocked by Marky Mark.

Ryan snickers, pressing his laugh into the skin of his neck, sealing his amusement with a kiss but Shane doesn’t even think about the way it makes his pulse flutter. The world seems to slam into him, this time at high speed, the cacophony of voices and music, the smell of sweet alcohol and sweat and Ryan’s cologne. His heart sinks and his stomach rolls nauseatingly. Ryan is looking at him with concern, he can see his lips moving, he knows he’s asking him if he’s okay even though he can’t hear his voice. He looks so beautiful, dark eyes and a full mouth and Shane can’t stand it. He runs. He barrels through the crowd toward the exit, desperate for some air, for clarity, for _peace_.

Of course he doesn’t get it, because Ryan has followed him. He stumbles from the club, flushed and frantic until he finally spots Shane, back braced against the wall. He just stands there watching him, he doesn’t so much as utter a word and it has something like anger burning in his chest, seeping into his veins. Suddenly Shane can’t take the silence. “Go on. Get back in there and find your Mark Wahlberg.” He remarks and it sounds bitter and wrong. He’s ruining this, ruining the waking dream of having Ryan in his arms because of a stupid song and a stupid video. Stupid insecurities he’s done nothing with except let them fester. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Ryan says “What’s going on I thought we were having fun, I thought-” He cuts himself off and he sways on his feet, frowning at Shane as if he’s trying to figure him out. Shane drops his gaze, the scrutiny too much to hide from. When Ryan speaks again his voice is quiet and strangely nervous. “I don’t- I don’t want a _Mark Wahlberg,_ ” he says with a scoff, “I want _you_.” It’s earnest and one look at Ryan tells him that he’s telling the truth.

“I want to be everything you want. _Everything_. But I’m-” Shane cuts himself off gesturing vaguely to himself and Ryan laughs at him. There is a softness to the way he looks at him that says he understands. “Gorgeous?” He says with a smirk, he steps closer, pressing Shane up against the wall and _God_ if this isn’t everything _Shane’s_ ever wanted. “The smartest, funniest, most sarcastic son of a bitch I know?” He breathes against Shane’s mouth, damp and hot. Shane tangles his fingers in Ryan’s belt loops, relishes the gasp that falls from him as he tugs his hips flush to Shane’s own. “Now now Bergara, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I was kinda hoping it’d get me into your pants to be honest.” Ryan smirks.

“My place or yours?”

 


	2. Sweet Sensation

The Uber ride to Ryan’s apartment is excruciating. He resists the urge to feel Ryan up in the backseat, instead resting a hand on his thigh, trying to keep himself from squeezing it or letting his hand sneak slowly upward. Ryan grins knowingly at him, trails teasing fingertips up Shane’s forearm so gently it makes him shiver. When they pull up outside the apartment complex it’s a matter of seconds before they’re springing from the car, giggling and giddy. Shane holds a hand out for Ryan as he races around the side of the car but he ignores it and instead wraps his arms around Shane’s waist, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss him. Shane cradles his face in his palms and kisses back as best he can through his smile.

It’s unexpectedly sweet, a kiss Shane is desperate to savour, to treasure. When they break apart Shane gently kisses Ryan’s forehead, and feels his heart pound in his chest. He feels as though he’s crossing a line. Up until this point they’d been driven by nothing but neon lights and alcohol, the dark seclusion of an alleyway and an Uber. He can’t help but feel like he’s being transparent now, that his want for this to mean more than it does is evident in his every action. Ryan looks up at him with a dumbfounded expression, seemingly also surprised at the tender turn and it makes anxiety coil in Shane’s gut alongside the arousal that’s been simmering there for hours.

Soon enough the surprise melts from Ryan’s expression, replaced with a sultry smile as he tugs him through the complex to his front door. He fumbles trying to get the key into the lock and Shane has a sneaking suspicion it’s probably his fault, grinding lazily against him as his mouth finds the nape of his neck. Ryan finally manages to swing the door open with so much force it almost bounces back off the wall and even then they close it with a slam. The moment they’re within the sanctuary of Ryan’s apartment Shane is crowding him back against the wall, shucking their jackets off in a frenzy, limbs knocking and tangling and it’s even more of a disaster when they attempt to take their shoes off, hopping around the entrance way in between kisses. They giggle and push at each other until, shoes and jackets at their feet, their laughter morphs into soft huffs of breath and warm smiles as they just stand facing each other.

“What are we doing?” Shane asks feeling awkward, his voice echoing throughout the dark apartment. There’s distance between them now and Shane itches to touch him but he’s once again reminded of _boundaries_. Ryan tilts his head to the side and looks at him searchingly. He has to fight the urge to fidget but his gaze is appreciative and Shane’s sure he unconsciously starts to stand a little straighter, hoping Ryan likes what he sees. “Playing checkers Shane, what does it look like?” He drawls and his kiss bitten lips part into a dazzling smile as he leans back against the wall. Shane has a sneaking suspicion he’s being seduced and he loves it. It takes two strides before he has Ryan boxed in again, looking up at him with dark eyes. “So you gonna fuck me or am I gonna have to find the board?” He quips and he’s barely finished speaking before Shane is kissing him rough and demanding. It’s short lived, Shane drags his lips away from his mouth, and Ryan leans his head back instinctively. “You don’t even know how to play checkers” he mutters.

“I do too!” Ryan says, indignant. “Just not all of us were in the chess club you fucking nerd.” He gasps as Shane bites at his jaw. Ryan bites his lip, neck straining with the effort of holding back a whimper. _That won’t do_ , Shane thinks to himself, sucking wet kisses along the column of his throat.

“Chess and checkers aren’t the same thing. Oh and I’m a nerd now? There a name calling kink I need to know about?” Ryan rolls his eyes, grinds against Shane’s thigh with a sigh that’s half out of pleasure and half out of exasperation. “ _Well_ ,” Ryan starts in the way that signifies he’s about to say something particularly offensive “you’re no Marky Mark. How much can you bench?” He says, trailing his hands up and down Shane’s arms, hinting at a lack of muscle, a lack of perceived strength. He knows Ryan’s trying to get a rise out of him, he’s buzzing with mischief and excitement. He wants to know what Shane will do, how he’ll react. It’s what he’s always loved about them, the push and pull, that electric back and forth that makes them wonder how far they can push each other, how much they can take.

He raises an eyebrow and wraps broad hands underneath Ryan’s thighs and lifts. Aided by a little jump from Ryan when he gets the memo about what Shane is attempting, he hauls him upward, thighs balanced on his forearms as Ryan wraps his legs, tight as a vice around his waist. “Enough.” He grits out as Ryan rolls his hips against Shane’s abdomen. Whether the word is an answer or an admonishment, Shane doesn’t know. All he _does_ know is that Ryan is speechless, nothing but little aborted moans and whimpers falling from his mouth as he attempts to grind against him. Shane’s mouth falls to Ryan’s throat, as his head falls back against the wall with a groan. His hips rut upward and Ryan squeaks almost squirming in his hold. The position is uncomfortable and if it weren’t for the wall and Ryan’s own strength Shane would barely be able to hold him up but the fact of the matter is that he has Ryan trapped between his body and the wall and whimpering his name. Shane isn’t one for displays of strength, he’s not a brawn guy, he doesn’t peacock, his masculinity isn’t that fragile. But there’s a certain thrill to showing off now, showing Ryan what he’s been missing and proving a point.

“You were saying baby?” Shane says, voice sardonic and smug. Ryan wriggles prompting Shane to let him lower his legs, feet firmly on the ground again. His hands immediately slip underneath Ryan’s shirt and he delights in the shiver that runs through him as his palms drag across hot, taut skin. “I hate you,” Ryan huffs as he tugs Shane down again, working a mark into his collarbone that makes him groan, his legs feeling weak, “I hate you and your stupid ‘I’m an asshole and I think I’m right’ voice.” Shane just hums, fingertips playing with the button of Ryan’s sinful jeans.

“First, I don’t think I’m right, I know I am and second, all this attention I’m getting begs to differ.” He says and Ryan wrenches himself back from where he’d been working on a second mark and fixes Shane with a glare.

He laughs and Ryan takes off across the lounge and down the hallway, striding toward his bedroom. Shane stares after him dumbfounded until he hears Ryan yell from across the apartment, voice laced with laughter “If you’re not here in the next 10 seconds I’m kicking you out and doing this myself.” He calls and Shane doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life. He power walks, because he’s desperate but not desperate enough to sprint, grinning from ear to ear. Ryan’s laughing at him, propped up on his elbows in the middle of the bed and God he’s gorgeous, laughter chiming like a bell, hair a mess and half hard in his jeans and Shane swears he must be dreaming.

Ryan is plucking at the buttons of his shirt as soon as Shane is close enough so naturally he returns the favour, throwing Ryan’s across the room as soon as he’s free of it. Ryan’s hands skitter across his shoulders and back, like he doesn’t know where to rest them as Shane attempts to get him out of his jeans without dislodging Ryan’s mouth from his neck. Eventually Ryan laughs at him, a loud cackle and pushes him aways so he can shimmy out of the rest of his clothes. It’s far from sexy but it’s strangely adorable and Shane fares no better, almost throwing himself off the bed and onto his ass on the floor in his haste to stand and strip. His mind begs him to slow down, to take his time, but Ryan reaches for him, eyes dark and smile so sweet even with his cock hard against his abdomen. Shane settles between his legs and looks at him, skates his hands across that broad chest, fingertips running teasingly over a nipple and Ryan arches beneath him with a breathy sigh. The room feels hot and he can feel sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. Ryan just lets him look, lets him touch, eyes heavy lidded as he looks back.

Hours ago they were just friends, not an inkling that this was in their future but something about the easy intimacy, the way Ryan’s eyes on him don’t make him itch but make him feel like he’s glowing, tells him this was inevitable. “Like what you see?” Ryan says, hands caressing Shane’s thighs. Shane huffs out a laugh, hands brushing over the smooth skin of Ryan’s sides and down to his hips. “That’s such a line.” He says, rolling his hips against Ryan’s with a groan. “Worked though.” Ryan mutters, dragging Shane down against him as he rolls his hips upward, cock bumping against Shane’s own.

“Shut up.” Shane mumbles and kisses him before Ryan can reply with the standard ‘make me’. It’s slower, less heated but Shane makes the delightful mistake of gasping when Ryan grabs at his ass and then he _takes_ , pressing upward and kissing him hard. Shane moans into his mouth, murmuring nonsense against his lips when he’s given the chance, panting as he grinds against him.

“Lube. Drawer.” Ryan pants out before biting at Shane’s lips and Shane can’t help but chuckle as he pulls away and reaches for the nightstand. “Wow so polite.” He says his voice low and dripping with sarcasm. Ryan rolls his eyes and presses a palm flat to Shane’s cock causing him to stutter out a groan and fumble with the handle of the drawer. “Please sir,” Ryan starts in a ridiculously sub par imitation of Oliver Twist “I want a dick in my ass.” Shane laughs so hard he has to momentarily stop his search for lube, hunched over Ryan on the bed as they lose it.

Eventually he manages to reach back over into the night stand to find the lube and a condom but he also finds something else. “Well well well someone really does have a thing for good vibrations.” He says, tossing the lube and condom onto the bed before pulling a sizable vibrator out of the nightstand drawer. He settles himself back between Ryan’s thighs and turns the dial and a gentle hum sounds throughout the room. Ryan blushes so hard Shane can trace the colour all the way to his sternum. A beautiful rose colour dusts his sweat slick skin and he struggles to keep still under Shane’s teasing gaze, a desperation in the wiggle of his hips. He wraps a hand around Ryan’s cock and strokes him, feather light, nowhere near enough. A moan slips from him, tumbles from kiss reddened lips, bitten and rubbed raw by Shane’s 5 o’clock shadow. “You want me to use it? Want me to fuck you with it?” He asks gently, runs the tip of the toy from the centre of his chest to his groin, pressing it alongside Ryan’s dick. Ryan whines, back arching as his cock twitches in Shane’s grasp, a little sticky with pre-cum. He nods frantically, eyes slipping shut. “Yes or no, Ry?” He asks, again, watching rapturously as long dark lashes flutter against his still flushed cheeks. He leans down and breathes hotly against his neck sucking a bruise into the tender skin just below his jaw. “Yes please, yes.” Ryan whines.

He leans back and settles comfortably between Ryan’s thighs as his hands twist into the sheets in anticipation. He fumbles with the lube, movements shakier and less precise than he really wants them to be. He thinks he’s doing pretty well though, the sight of the long shadows cast along the beautiful muscle of Ryan’s torso is enough to unravel the sanest of minds and he hasn’t quite lost his yet despite the deep, persistent ache in his hips. Shane cranes forward to suck a mark into his abdomen, and Ryan’s legs fall open further as an index finger circles him, teasing with the tip before pushing inside that tight heat. Ryan hisses and wiggles, hand petting idly through Shane’s hair as he flutters kisses across his hip. He can feel the hum of the vibrator against his lips as he mouths at the sweat slick skin. He gets lost in the feeling, the echo of increasingly desperate moans sounding above him as he teases Ryan with a single digit. He doesn’t get to take his time, draw it out and make him beg, they’ve been on edge since they left the club and Ryan is growing impatient, tugging at Shane’s hair in frustration as he tries to thrust back on his finger. Shane has mercy then, adding a second, then a third finger, thrusting and twisting and curling his fingers upward until Ryan groans, deep and aching. “ _Shane_.” Ryan growls with a particularly sharp tug on Shane’s hair that has his cock throbbing almost painfully.

Shane doesn’t need to be asked twice. He slips his fingers free, wiping them unceremoniously. Ryan’s nose wrinkling at the sensation of emptiness. He reluctantly lets Shane take the vibrator away from his cock with a whine but it’s not long before he’s panting, hands reaching down and grabbing for Shane’s shoulders as the lube slick tip of the toy hums against his rim before Shane slides it tortuously inside. He bite’s at his cheek to prevent from grinning as Ryan’s mouth drops open. “Now how’s that for good vibration?” Shane says as he bites at Ryan’s thigh. Ryan groans and smacks his shoulder for the joke.

“Oh so Good Vibrations jokes are okay when you make them?” He pants, wiggling his hips to try and shift Shane’s hand that isn’t rocking the vibrator into him, closer to his dick. He gasps, hips stuttering as the toy shifts inside him. “Gotta own it baby.” He says, reaching down and drawing the vibrator out to the tip before pressing it back in slowly. He watches transfixed as Ryan arches his back, unravelling at the slow drag and gentle hum. He whines and Shane swallows it with his mouth, kissing him hard and needy as he continues to fuck him slowly with the vibrator. “The whole thing turned out pretty well in the end.” He says, biting at Ryan’s bottom lip, savouring the glassy look in his eyes as he writhes beneath him. “Think we both owe Teej a fruit basket.”

“You- ah- owe _me,”_ Ryan whines, hips undulating, grinding on the toy. It’s sort of true. Ryan had been the braver of the two of them. Without his 90’s themed confession TJ wouldn’t have made the parody that ultimately nudged them both onto this path but Shane doesn’t dwell on whether or not they would have gotten here without the push.

“Owe you?” He hums and he deftly turns the vibration up to its highest setting. Ryan’s mouth falls open in a soundless moan, whole body taut as his eyes flutter shut, his fingers slipping frantically across Shane’s back, nails biting into his skin. “This not reward enough baby?” He coos, mesmerised as whimpers start falling from Ryan’s throat with abandon. He presses his lips to his adam’s apple as he starts thrusting the toy in and out, twisting and searching. Ryan’s throat rumbles with the bitten off sounds, the vibration of it delicious beneath Shane’s sensitive lips. He’s so hard, dizzy with the sights and sounds alone and Ryan is falling apart so beautifully.

Ryan starts babbling, legs falling open impossibly further as he tries to move back against the toy, desperate. Sweat gathers at his temples, his hair damp and Shane reaches up to tug a hand through it, tilting his head back. Ryan meets his gaze with wild eyes, blissed out and glossy as he whimpers. “ _Shane_ ” he moans, body beautifully taut with pleasure, muscles twitching and thighs shaking with it. “ _Fuck fuck fuck_ ” he chants and the desperate timbre of his voice has Shane throbbing.

“Yeah?” Shane pants breathlessly, fucking him hard with the toy and twisting his wrist. “So fucking gorgeous Ry. Tell me how it feels.” He whines against his mouth.

“Good so good Shane please.” He begs and Shane could probably come from the sound alone. He feels privileged, to make this man fall apart.

“C’mon.” He says, and wraps a hand around Ryan’s cock, stroking him as he angles the toy just right. Ryan groans deep in his throat, and Shane is sure his back is taking a beating but the sharp sting of it has him seeing stars

Staccato moans tumble from Ryan’s kiss bitten mouth and Shane knows he’s close. “C’mon baby.” Shane coos one more time and then Ryan is coming, his hips stuttering as his back curves into a beautiful arch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping with the effort. Shane fucks him through it, whispering sweet nothings into Ryan’s skin as he turns down the dial on the vibrator until the humming stops. He strokes his hand over Ryan’s thigh, as he slips the toy out, discarding it on the sheets to deal with later.

He looks up at Ryan in awe, hair a mess on the pillow, eyes heavy lidded and chest heaving. “Holy fuck.” Ryan breathes out dazedly with a laugh and Shane grins at him as he pulls him further down the bed, Ryan’s thighs resting open on Shane’s splayed knees. “Good?” He asks, stroking from Ryan’s hips to his knees, fingers momentarily digging into the flesh of his thighs. He hasn’t come yet and it’s bordering on painful but he’s not gonna push and seeing Ryan fucked out and sated is almost enough.

Ryan nods, eyes roaming over Shane’s body lazily. Shane lets him look, continues to squeeze his thighs feeling as though he himself is about to vibrate out of his skin with how turned on he feels, his whole body pulled as taut as a bowstring. “Having fun there?” Ryan nods toward Shane’s hands and Shane smiles bashfully, feeling called out. “Your thighs are to die for.” Shane says, pushing Ryan’s leg up and leaning forward to bite at the skin. Ryan hisses but doesn’t tell him to stop, hand running through Shane’s hair until he moves away sitting upright again. “Benefits of not skipping leg day,” Ryan says, mischief in his dark eyes, “wanna fuck them?”

Shane’s eyes widen and he almost chokes when his lust addled brain registers the question. He nods vigorously and Ryan rewards him with a peal of laughter that turns into a squeak as Shane tugs him eagerly down the bed lifting his legs and resting them on his right shoulder, crossed at the ankle. He reaches for the lube, almost bending Ryan in half as he fumbles for it and God that’s hot. He leans up to kiss him long and achingly sweet and Shane can do nothing but pant into his mouth and bite at his bottom lip as he pulls away. He slicks himself up with a hiss, the hand on his cock a welcome relief and then drizzles lube onto Ryan’s thighs until the skin is slick and glistening. He groans, deep and guttural as he pushes between them. Ryan moans quietly, eyes hooded even though his cock is soft. Shane doesn’t waste much time, he’s been hard for so long. His grip tightens on Ryan’s ankles, something singing in him at the sight of his big hand wrapped around the delicate bones there. The fingers of his other hand dig in to the firm muscle of Ryan’s thigh hard enough to bruise. Something possessive purs inside of him with the knowledge he’ll have left his mark. He tries to be measured, tries to make a show of it under Ryan’s heated gaze but he unravels embarrassingly fast. It’s filthy, and all he can hear is the squelch of his slick thrusts and his own heavy breaths. He tightens his grip, thrusting harder, once, then twice more into the soft slick heat of Ryan’s thighs before he’s spilling over the hot skin with a moan. Ryan whimpers at the sensation and he files the sound away for later, trying to catch his breath as he comes down. He places a kiss against his ankle, his calf, before gently lowering his legs and crawling up the bed to collapse beside him.

He watches in amazement as Ryan skates his fingertips down his own chest and past his hips, legs falling open slightly as he reaches his thighs. He drags an index finger through the mess there before bringing it to his mouth and tasting it with a hum. “Jesus fucking Christ Ry” Shane moans grabbing Ryan’s wrist and pressing it back into the pillows before kissing him, tasting himself on Ryan’s tongue. When he pulls back Ryan just raises an eyebrow at him. “Good?” He asks in an imitation of Shane’s early question and he grins.

“Yes. God yes.” He says fluttering kisses all over Ryan’s face, his cheeks, his jaw, his nose. It’s saccharinely sweet and sappy but Shane can’t find it in himself to care, light and tired and sated and with Ryan huffing out breathy laughter beneath him. Eventually Ryan pushes him back with a hand on his chest, nose wrinkled adorably in disgust as he wiggles uncomfortably. “Gross?” Shane asks.

“Gross” Ryan says quietly with a laugh.

“Shower?” Shane asks again unable to use many more words and thankful they aren’t really necessary, not with Ryan. He nods and they shuffle to the bathroom, the fact they’ll be sharing the shower mutually and silently agreed.

 

* * *

 

Shane is pleasantly surprised the next morning to find a wide palm rubbing his belly, hot breath against his neck and a hard cock grinding against his ass as he wakes up, blinking his eyes open with a hum. “Good morning to you too.” He says, voice scratchy with sleep. Ryan places a kiss just behind his ear, a spot that never fails to make him shiver and he rocks his hips back against Ryan, relishing the deep rumble he hears in response. He cranes his head back for a kiss, and tries his best to ignore the morning breath. “Jesus Christ it tastes like a rat died in your mouth.” He says. He tried his best. “And you know what dead rat tastes like do you?” Ryan asks with a huff of laughter, still grinding lazily against him, in no hurry.

“Get up and make us coffee.” He says.

“Umm no?” Shane replies snuggling down further into the warmth of the comforter. “Anyway it’s your apartment.”

“Marky Mark would-”

“Do not tell me you have even have the slightest inkling of what Mark Wahlberg does on a morning after.” He says waspishly. Whilst he would love a cup of coffee, he’s perfectly content to see where this lazy grinding goes. Ryan just laughs at him. “Are you always going to be this jealous?” He says, nosing at the nape of Shane’s neck.

“Always? I-”

“Oh shit no sorry this was a one time thing right? I mean I thought- but-” Ryan stutters, starts pulling away and panic seizes in Shane’s chest. “Is this a one time thing? I mean-”

“No of course you want-” He says and Shane can’t bring himself to turn around and face him. He curls in on himself a little, still on his side.

“I want you.” Shane breathes out and it’s the most exposed he’s ever felt in his life, vulnerable and like Ryan could shatter him at any moment. “I thought- last night, at the club. I meant what I said.” He takes a deep breath and forces himself to turn over and meet Ryan’s gaze. “I want to be everything you want, anything you want. One night stand, just a friend, a fuck buddy, boyfriend. Whatever you want. I’ll take what I can get.” His voice wavers on the word ‘boyfriend’ but he tries to smile. He means it. Even if Ryan doesn’t want anything to change he’ll be happy. “Charming” Ryan remarks, eyes so warm and soft. “I try.”

“What do you want?” Ryan says taking Shane’s hand underneath the covers and tangling their fingers together. “This goes both ways buddy.”

“Right now?” Ryan nods. “Right now I want you to fuck me. But later I’d love to take you to dinner.” Shane grins, aiming for nonchalance even as his heart feels as though it’s trying to beat its way through his ribcage. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” Ryan smiles, swiftly moving to straddle Shane’s hips and pressing their clasped hands back into the pillows. “Technically, we’ve already gone about this backwards why stop there?” He says looking up at him, an eyebrow raised. “For once you’re right.” Ryan replies and Shane gasps melodramatically a sound that soon devolves into a moan as Ryan drags a hand down his chest. “It’s a date big guy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it folks! My second attempt at smut in a long time, let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr [here](https://mercury-skies.tumblr.com/) and don't forget to check out my partner for this challenge [@rpfisnasty](https://rpfisnasty.tumblr.com/)


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